


This City (Kuroo x Reader)

by kuroolongtea



Category: Haikyuu!!, ハイパープロジェクション演劇「ハイキュー!!」| Hyper Projection Play "Haikyuu!!" RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Angst and Romance, Angst and Tragedy, Best Friends, Drama & Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Heavy Angst, Light Angst, Romance, Tragic Romance, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27869422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuroolongtea/pseuds/kuroolongtea
Summary: Rejection is never easy, especially when it comes from your best friend Kuroo, who made the once foreign city of Tokyo feel like home to you. Two months of healing later, you decide you’re finally ready to move on—but he’s been hiding something.Soundtrack: "This City" by Sam Fischer“This city’s gonna break my heart; this city’s gonna love me, then leave me alone.”
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader
Comments: 33
Kudos: 128





	This City (Kuroo x Reader)

**Author's Note:**

> this was the first official fic i'd ever written, and it's incredibly personal to me! i hold it very close to my heart, so i hope you enjoy it as well :)  
> feel free to follow me on tumblr (@kuroolongtea) where i'm more active for more content!

Honestly, you were _not_ ready to leave Tokyo in a few weeks.

“I can’t believe you’ve already finished your studies here,” Yaku sighs, pouting a bit with his brows knitted together. “It feels like just yesterday when Kuroo introduced you to us and we all became friends, how has it been a couple _years_ already?”

You and the brown-haired boy sit together comfortably on the bus, since you’d bumped into him after finishing your university classes for the day a bit earlier than usual.

“I know,” you frown, looking through the bus window to watch the buildings race by. “I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t think my time here was going to be as impactful as it was—and I sure didn’t expect to meet some of the most important people in my life here either.”

“Are you talking about Kuroo?” Yaku teases. “That’s surprisingly generous coming from you, considering I’ve never seen you two be nice to each other.”

“I’m talking about all of you except him,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “I would’ve been just _fine_ not meeting that dude. Probably would’ve made my life a lot easier too.”

Yaku doesn’t say anything, but he watches you and waits, grinning.

“…Point taken.”

You said that sarcastically, of course; Kuroo is one of the first people you met when you moved to Tokyo for school, and has become one of your closest friends over time.

Sure, he’s a loser, but he’d brought your life in the city joy, companionship, and color. He made what was once a new, foreign place, feel like a second home to you.

But you can’t say there wasn’t a _little_ bit of truth behind your statement—if you hadn’t met Kuroo, your life probably _would_ have been easier.

For one, you wouldn’t have fallen in love.

For another, you wouldn’t have gotten your heart broken.

You watch a group of pedestrians cross the street while your bus is stopped at a red light, and flash back to the night you confessed your feelings to Kuroo two months prior: it had taken every ounce of courage you’d been mustering up for as long as you could remember, to finally tell your closest friend that you had feelings for him.

Just three simple words—which held the power to either blossom your relationship into something beautiful, or completeely turn it to dust—had never felt more difficult to say.

He had turned you down respectfully then, and you could tell he was being as gentle as he could.

“You’re honestly one of the closest friends I’ve made in university,” he’d said, choosing his words carefully. His voice sounded like it was on the brink of trembling, but you couldn’t be sure. “I’ve told you things I haven’t told anybody else before, and there aren’t that many people who understand me as well as you do.”

It almost felt strange, hearing him speak so thoughtfully; after all, this was the person who had no filter with you, the person who was somehow simultaneously the smartest and dumbest person you knew.

You remember how loudly the silence of the park you two sat in had rang in your ears, and how you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him; you just listened, eyes fixed on your hands.

“But that being said,” he continued quietly. “I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship right now—and as much as I really, _really_ don’t want to lose you as a friend, I get it if you need some space after this.”

You didn’t need to look at him to know he was rubbing the back of his neck.

He did that whenever he felt uneasy.

You’d realized suddenly why his serious tone made you feel so unsettled—it was distancing, like he was talking to someone he didn’t know very well. Someone who didn’t know almost every habit of his, every strength, every corner of his soul.

It was impossible to ignore the hard lump that had formed in your throat hearing Kuroo tell you how much you truly meant to him because there was no doubting that he cherished you. But the pain of hearing him say it out loud, whilst knowing he could never love you the same way you loved him, was inexplicable.

Maybe it was shallow to think this way, but at least he didn’t love somebody else. He just wasn’t ready for a relationship.

“So what’re your plans for the rest of the day?” Yaku asks, bringing you back to the present.

“Oh, I think Kuroo and I are supposed to hang out later,” you answer as he puts on his backpack, preparing to get off at his stop approaching in a few minutes. “Which reminds me, I should text him about that.”

Yaku nods while you pull out your phone, opening your text messages.

> [15:10]  
>  **You** : hey are we still on for dinner tonight?

He had asked you to hang out since you were leaving Tokyo soon, and both of you have been busier these days (as expected of university students), thus limiting the time you could spend together. It was touching, frankly—and reassuring—that he still thought of you.

Honestly, you were just grateful that your friendship had more or less returned to normal. That was the only thing you’d asked of him after your rejection: that the both of you try your best to stay friends.

Admittedly, the first few interactions with Kuroo after you confessed were inevitably a bit awkward, but you’d insisted to him that you were fine whenever he was kind enough to ask.

Thankfully, he bought it.

You think he did, at least. It was never hard for you to fool him if you really wanted to.

But there was no fooling yourself.

It was a difficult two months: random, mundane things in your everyday life reminded you of inside jokes the two of you shared, and you’d fallen asleep on a damp pillowcase more times than you’d like to admit.

The funny thing was, you couldn’t even reach out to Kuroo for solace or comfort like you used to. In fact, you’d die before you let him find out how devastated you _really_ were, despite convincing him that you were okay—after all, the responsibility of breaking your heart was a heavy burden to bear.

Kuroo is one of the kindest people you know, and there was no doubt that he’d feel overwhelming guilt for causing you pain, even if he hasn’t done anything wrong. And you would always put his happiness and peace of mind before your own.

You recall clearly the way he’d hugged you before you stepped on the bus to go home that night, and you could _feel_ the mix of emotions in his embrace, which felt different from any other time before.

The way he pulled you close to his heart and against his chest reminded you that he cared about you. That he loved you, as a friend.

But most of all, his touch told you that he was sorry, and that you deserved happiness, but it not with him.

Your phone buzzes in your hand—most likely a response form Kuroo—and brings you out of your thoughts once more. You shake your head, reminding yourself to leave those memories in the past where they belong.

After all, here you are, two months later: confident that you’ve healed and moved on… for the most part.

You had come to terms with the fact that Kuroo would always have a piece of your heart, no matter how small. But you were also grateful that you could still relish in your friendship just like old times—not everyone gets that sort of opportunity, so you couldn’t have asked for more.

You unlock your phone screen to read his message.

> [15:17]  
>  **Kuroo** : oh shit my bad can we reschedule?

You raise eyebrows raise at the text, and purse your lips while typing a response. 

> [15:18]  
>  **You** : wtf… aren’t you the one who asked me to hang out  
>  **Kuroo** : sorry something came up ;(  
>  **You** : something came up or you forgot?  
>  **Kuroo** : …don’t beat my ass

> [15:19]  
>  **You** : …..  
>  **Kuroo** : i’m sorryyy dinner’s on me next week?  
>  **You** : it better be smh i can’t believe you  
>  **Kuroo** : my treat, i promise 😅

You sigh, shaking your head and slipping the device back into your jacket pocket.

“What’s wrong?” Yaku asks, looking up at the sound of your exasperation.

“Freakin’ Kuroo just flaked on me,” you mumble with a subtle eye roll. “Even though _he’s_ the one who asked me to hang out.”

“Oof,” Yaku says, taking a sharp breath. “Sorry ‘bout that. Guess he’s getting distracted with his new girlfriend these days.”

Wait, what?

Your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach and your blood goes cold.

Did you hear that right?

“New girlfriend?”

“Yeah, that other girl he’s friends with from school?” Yaku raises his eyebrow at your surprised tone. “I thought you two knew each other since you’re both close with Kuroo.”

Unfortunately, you know immediately who Yaku is referring to.

“We’re friendly but I don’t know her too well,” you admit, still in shock. 

There’s no way. 

“I thought she had a boyfriend though? Haven’t they been together for a year or two?” you ask, feigning nonchalance as best as you can to keep yourself from absolutely _losing_ it.

“Apparently they broke up a few weeks ago, and then I think she told Kuroo she had feelings for him? I’m pretty sure they got together a little bit after that,” Yaku explained, rolling his eyes with a shake of his head. “After all these years of him telling us he doesn’t have feelings for his close friends… and us believing him too.”

He pauses.

“Wait, he didn’t tell you any of this?”

“Um…” you say, unsure of how to continue.

What. The _fuck_.

It’s still difficult to process the information, and you feel like you’ve just been punched in the gut.

Realization slowly washes over Yaku’s face, who’s now clearly starting to feel bad that he might’ve accidentally revealed something he shouldn’t have.

“Sorry, I know Kuroo always tells you everything so I just assumed that you knew already,” he mumbles sheepishly, scratching his head.

“Oh, we’ve just been too busy to hang out these days,” you say quickly. “Maybe he was gonna tell me tonight or something—before that loser flaked on me, of course.”

That’s a lie.

You’d seen Kuroo _several_ times in the past couple of months. He’s had more than enough chances to tell you.

Part of you is thankful that he evidently hasn’t told Yaku about your confession, not that you expected him to; Kuroo could be obnoxious and say some _really_ dumb stuff sometimes, but he definitely isn’t the type to go and tell everyone your personal business.

He respects you and always, _always_ takes your feelings into account—you know that for a fact. It’s one of things you really loved about him.

“Okay, phew,” Yaku breathes a sigh of relief. “I know he wanted to keep his relationship on the down-low for now, so I thought I totally blew it for a second.”

“Haha, you’re good,” you force yourself to smile reassuringly at your friend, but the expression doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Well, this is my stop,” Yaku announces, getting up from his seat as the bus slows to a halt. “I’ll see you around?”

“Yup, bye.”

You wave once the door slides open and he hops off the vehicle without a care in the world, and wonder what that feels like.

Your heart races painfully fast, and the lump in your throat makes it harder and harder to breathe. As if stuck in a limbo state, you slowly lean back in your seat, deep in your thoughts.

It’s not until the bus starts looping back around the travel route to make its way toward the starting point, that you realize you’ve long since missed your own stop.

How long has it been?

Ten minutes? Twenty?

You watch the various buildings pass you by through the window glass, reminded of the many memories you made in this beautiful city—of which the happiest and most memorable ones were with Kuroo.

Now that you think about it, you wonder if the memories themselves were particularly special, or if they only felt that way because they were made with _him_.

The bus drives past the park where Kuroo once gave you his jacket because you were freezing, which you’d mistook as a romantic gesture at the time.

“I’d be such good boyfriend material,” he had said cheekily with that stupid grin of his, not knowing the effect his words had on you.

“Ew.”

In hindsight, who can blame you for taking things the wrong way?

You then catch sight of the restaurant you two always ate at whenever one of you had something to celebrate, be it finally meeting an important deadline, successfully finishing an interview, or even managing high marks on an exam.

He always ordered the same grilled salted mackerel pike.

Meals there were always followed by an intense game of rock-paper-scissors to see who had to pay the bill, and for some odd, unexplainable reason, Kuroo always lost—with his wallet suffering the consequences time and time again.

“You’re definitely rigging it,” he’d declared several times with full, baseless confidence, as if you had any control over whether the moron chose rock, paper, or scissors.

But, after calling him stupid, you still often bought him dessert at the neighboring ice cream shop to make up for it.

Your body suddenly lurches forward as the bus comes to an abrupt halt, the driver cursing about how much he despises reckless pedestrians under his breath. The vehicle is now stopped outside the library where you and Kuroo had spent many days, afternoons, and nights studying for your respective exams.

He always helped you with your classes when he could; and it was at this particular library where you found yourself realizing how fond you were of his intelligence and work ethic—not that you’d ever tell him.

You recognize the stairs leading up to the building’s entrance where you’d once tripped and almost fell face-first in public, while Kuroo simply stood there and laughed at you with his ugly cackle for a solid minute before helping you up.

“Well that was ungraceful,” he’d snickered.

“Eat shit,” you had muttered at him, brushing the dirt off your knees.

“I think _you’re_ the one who just ate shit,” he remarked with a smirk, though still holding you steady with one of his strong arms.

You sigh.

What does it even matter anymore?

The bus begins to move again, soon approaching your favorite smoothie shop on the street; it’s a hole-in-the-wall type of small business located in a relatively quiet area, which is part of its charm.

In fact, it’s the smoothie shop where Kuroo always bought you your favorite drink every time you cried over something—he’s never been great at comforting people, but he lets his actions speak louder than words. And, honestly, the gesture was sweet. It showed that he cared, even when he couldn’t find the words to express it.

A memory resurfaces as you flash back to the day you’d gotten yelled at for something completely out of your control while working at your part-time job—nobody likes being publicly humiliated, let alone on their first day of work.

You remember walking out after your shift, frustrated and defeated, to see Kuroo leaning against a street lamp, already waiting for you like he said he would. The sense of relief and comfort that washed over you at just the mere _sight_ of him still lingers faintly in your chest.

It had only taken him one glance at your puffy, red eyes to ask you with concern, “Hey, are you okay? What happened?”

You didn’t say anything, and the silence had spoken for you.

He furrowed his brows.

“That bad, huh?” he sighed, putting his arm around you.

The well-meaning action prompted your eyes to begin watering up again immediately, while you wiped away an escaping tear.

“You wanna talk about it?” Kuroo asked as you shook your head slowly, clearly upset.

“Hmm…” he pondered, tapping his chin. “Smoothies then? My treat.”

“Okay.”

Kuroo grinned at you, happy to finally hear you say a word.

“Alright, you have until we get to dry your eyes and look normal again,” he chuckled, patting your head. “I can’t be seen with you lookin’ ugly like that—ow!”

You’d thrown a little punch at his ribcage, causing his tall, lanky figure to keel over at the attack.

“I still look better than you do on a good day,” you retorted.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say,” he grimaced.

You weren’t looking at him, but you could hear still the small smile in Kuroo’s voice.

The bus arrives at the corner of the smoothie shop, pulling you out of the nostalgia. You step off the vehicle after thanking the driver, and walk towards the store that has always held such a special place in your heart.

Something sweet sounds good right about now.

As you make your way closer and closer to the building entrance, a familiar silhouette in the shop’s window catches your eye.

A silhouette you’d recognize anywhere, asleep or awake, drunk or sober.

_There’s no fucking way._

But surely enough, it’s Kuroo. 

Along with Bokuto, Akaashi, and… a girl, standing by Kuroo’s side.

It all becomes clear to you—if it wasn’t enough already—that everything Yaku told you earlier was true. There was no room for doubt, no matter how badly you wanted there to be. 

Instictively hoping to avoid a run-in with your friends, you quickly cross the street, and it takes all your willpower to not just start sprinting. You duck behind a row of trees along the fences of a public playground, choosing the nearest and largest one; it almost feels wrong sneaking around like this, but you’re not sure you can face him.

Or her.

Or the two of them _together_.

You’re lucky there’s only a couple of people walking around, each in their own little worlds, none of them aware enough to notice you on the brink of panic. You poke your head out from your hiding spot, waiting for the smoothie shop’s doors to open across the street.

And it feels like they open all too soon.

You watch them walk out; Bokuto is rambling enthusiastically about something to Akaashi while the latter listens and nods, and you realize that Kenma is trailing behind them as well.

You must have missed him earlier.

Does everyone and their _mom_ know about Kuroo’s new relationship except you?

An unidentifiable feeling begins to swell up in your chest.

Soon enough, Kuroo and his girlfriend exit the store following Kenma, their hands interlocked together.

 _Girlfriend_.

It feels so strange to say that word. To think that word.

“Kuroo” and “girlfriend” just didn’t seem like they belong in the same sentence.

 _“I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship right now,”_ his voice echoes in your mind.

Your face contorts into what could be a bitter smile, as the question of how long he was planning on hiding this relationship from you hangs over your head like a dark cloud on the brink of a storm.

Or how he was just _suddenly_ ready for a relationship now.

He should’ve just fucking told you he didn’t like you.

Everyone calls you Kuroo’s best friend as if it’s common knowledge, but you feel like everything but that.

You feel like a damn _fool_.

_“I’ve told you things I haven’t told anybody else before.”_

Irrational thoughts race through your head faster than you can stop them.

For instance, you wonder if Kuroo is _actually_ in a relationship, as if you didn’t just see them walking hand-in-hand. After all, sometimes holding hands doesn’t mean much—

But then, you see her kiss him.

Your conflicted thoughts are cut off and shut down when you witness the act that you wish you didn’t.

He was grinning and talking to her, when she tip-toed and pressed her lips against his mid-sentence.

Your heart sinks, then cracks, then shatters, and the whole world feels like it’s falling apart.

It’s uncertain, which one hurt more to see: her kissing him, or the way his cheeks flushed pink and his eyes lit up—glowing with ardent love and adoration—after she did.

Forcing yourself to tear your eyes away from the friends you suddenly feel so distant from, you duck back behind the tree and wait for them to leave. The last thing you see are their backs, walking away from you in their own, happy little worlds.

You feel numb.

A few minutes pass, and you begin mindlessly making your way towards the playground a couple hundred of meters away, your head dizzy from spinning with all the thoughts you can’t stop.

Is it making you more upset that Kuroo is now in a relationship, or that he chose to keep it from you?

You know he doesn’t owe you anything, and he probably just didn’t want to hurt you. You _know_ that he means well. That he doesn’t have bad intentions. That he probably spent days, _weeks_ wondering how or if he should bring it up with you.

_“There aren’t that many people who understand me as well as you do.”_

What else is bothering you so much?

Is it the twisted fact that, while you were falling apart for the last two months, he was falling in love?

Or feeling like you weren’t good enough for him? Being left to wonder forever where you went wrong, when _you_ were the one who loved him from the very start?

Oh, but you know better than anyone that love doesn’t happen because someone “deserves" it.

It just _happens_.

None of this is your fault, Kuroo’s, or hers.

You understand that.

So, what?

What is it, at the very _core_ of your sadness?

Realization dawns on you right as you reach the empty playground, stopping in your tracks before a set of swings.

It’s the distance.

The inevitable distance that comes with a new relationship, where he has to start prioritizing his significant other over everyone else—when you become someone on the outside, looking in.

The distance between you and Kuroo that started pushing you two apart the _moment_ he chose to keep his relationship from you, even if it was because he cared about you.

You sit down on the swing, rocking yourself back and forth slowly.

But none of this matters anymore, does it?

You’re over him. You’ve moved on. You healed. Isn’t that what the past two months has been all about?

The swing slows to a stop, as do your thoughts. 

You bury your head in your hands, and finally, begin to cry.

No, this isn’t like the times Kuroo has seen quiet tears stream down your face in frustration.

This is bitter, chest-heaving, agonizing sobbing.

The type of sadness that makes you feel like you can’t breathe, and your shoulders are shaking beyond your control. 

The type of pent-up frustration that has bubbled up inside you long before what you saw today.

You’re not sure which is worse by comparison: the night you were rejected, or today, the day you realize that all your “healing” had been for naught, with every old feeling of unrequited love flooding back in waves that you can’t fight.

You’d considered it, and feared it before, but now it truly dawns on you that you could spend the rest of your life trying to get over Kuroo. 

A hiccup escapes your lips as you wipe away the stubborn tears streaming down your face, though they never fully stop.

You’ll be out of here soon, anyway.

Out of the city that once brought you a sense of comfort, but may now remind you of every bitter heartache instead.

Out of the city that belongs to them, and has _always_ belonged to them.

Out of the city that broke your heart.

Maybe you _were_ ready to leave Tokyo

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! comments are greatly appreciated, and thank you for reading ♡


End file.
